Sister of a Slave
by SirMandokarla
Summary: Year 0 BSC. SWTOR. Aqura and Dar'vao are two slave girls growing up under the Empire's rule. If they survive, each has the potential to change the galaxy in fantastic ways. All either of them needs is somebody to rely on, faith in her abilities, and somebody she can trust.
**Author's Note:**

 **This is the beginning of the Mandokarla Legacy, a story following many characters through the events, heavily modified at times, of SWTOR. If the first couple of stories turn out to be popular, more may come, filling in parts of the history haphazardly. Hence, each story will be dated and give brief context. Suggestions are welcome, helpful criticism will be gratefully received, especially regarding plot holes. Naturally, advice on writing style would be great, since I know my reach exceeds my grasp by a wide margin.  
**

The child's feet scuffed against the wall, kicking and sliding, trying to hold herself up and gain even an instant's relief, a gasp of air. The sith boy holding her by the throat grinned, reveling in his power over life and death. She pushed against his hand futilely, blue hand on red skin. Her lekku began to twitch spasmodically, brushing against one of the many paintings lining the manor's hall. She was too small, too weak to properly defend herself.

"Hey," came a voice.

The grip on her throat lessened slightly, and she forced air into her lungs.

"You sure you don't want to pick on someone your own size, Sith?" The voice again.

The boy's hand left her throat, and her feet hit the floor, followed closely by the rest of her body. Her vision went black, but she heard young Master Ffon's voice, angry and mocking.

"What's this," he laughed, "the new slave, standing up for its fellow filth? My father will break you of that soon enough."

She was regaining her breath. She pulled her face up from the manor's carpet, even managing to pull herself to elbows and knees.

"Unless you want to do it yourself, kid," said the other girl. The other slave.

She's going to get herself killed, thought Dar'vao dully, lifting her head to look at Ffon and the girl, standing confidently down the hall, arms crossed and back straighter than any slave the twi'lek had ever seen.

Ffon shifted in response, enraged at such open defiance.

"Not going to do anything?" The human stepped back with one foot, beckoning towards her master. "Do you only pick on girls half your age? Are you a coward?"

Even as her head nodded to the floor again, the twi'lek caught the disdain, the pure contempt in that last word, worse even than how Ffon and visiting Sith Lords referred to the slaves.

Ffon roared in rage, and charged at the human. Dar'vao tried to raise her head, but she only caught a glimpse of the… fight. The human darted in towards Ffon, there was a flash of movement, and he was somehow face down on the floor behind her. She spun, hands open, and slammed her palm into the back of Ffon's head once. Twice. Three times.

As the human walked towards her, Dar'vao made a valiant attempt to stand. For a moment, she thought the Master's son had been killed, but a groan from behind her saviour proved corrected that thought. The girl reached the twi'lek before she could rise, though, and held out a hand to help her up. She hesitated, then took the hand.

"Woah, easy, there, blue," the human girl cautioned, holding her steady. "You'll be bruising for a while after that. You ok? Got a name?"

Dar'vao nodded, but froze when she finally caught the girl's eyes. They were so blue… like sapphires… Deep, dark ones, that sparkled the same way…

"Oh, man, you're not concussed or anything, are you," the girl said, gingerly taking hold of the shorter twi'lek's head, lightly feeling around and back towards her lekku. "I don't really know how to deal with that, especially with twintails, blue."

It was very distracting, staring directly into those eyes.

Finally, Dar'vao shook her head, clearing her mind after having regained her breath.

"I'm fine," she said, trying to push herself away from the human so she could stand alone, but she wobbled and blue-eyes _insisted_ on keeping hold of her.

"Funny kind of name," joked the girl.

"Dar'vao," corrected the twi'lek tersely.

"Oh, good. Aqura, then. That's me. Nice to meet you, kid."

She was so nonchalant. It was like Aqura had no idea what she'd done a moment ago.

"Why did you do that?"

"Do what?" Aqura seemed perplexed. "Check your head? Seemed I should at least see if I could find any bumps. Guess I dunno what I would've done, though."

"No," Dar'vao corrected, brow furrowing and lips thinning now that she had the clarity of mind to be annoyed, "why did you attack him? Why would you help me?"

The human girl stared down at her – she was a full head taller than Dar'vao – as if she'd grown a third lekku. "He was hurting you! You wanted me to just leave you?"

The younger slave had to admit, that probably wouldn't have ended any better.

Aqura rolled her eyes. "Look, Dar, I'm just doing what I was taught. Your dad must've thought the same."

With a quizzical look, the twi'lek replied, "I didn't have a father."

Both of the little charcoal-black strips of hair on Aqura's forehead shot up into her messy bangs for an instant, and her eyes widened, showing off those blue eyes. Then her brow furrowed in a look of determination, and she nodded.

"'sokay. I didn't have a mum." She took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. "Right, well, here's something he would've taught you."

She knelt down on one knee, so her eyes were about Dar'vao's mouth level, and looked the twi'lek dead in the eyes. Dar'vao glanced away, unable to meet her gaze.

"Dar, you're not the most powerful person in the galaxy. And you're not always right," Aqura spoke with a deep lilt, as if from a memorized speech, "but there are things in the galaxy that are wrong, and you might have the power to change them. If you do have that power, you have to be brave, and you have to trust yourself, because there's nobody – look at me, Dar'vao – there's nobody else you can trust to get it right."

Dar'vao was dumbfounded. It was like nothing she'd ever heard. The idea that, even as a slave, she could change things, flew in the face of almost a decade's worth of life experience. Aqura stood up, letting it sink in for a moment.

Finally, the twi'lek slipped out of the older slave's grip, muttering, "that doesn't mean you have to be stupid about it."

With more confidence than she'd shown up to that point in her life, she strode down the carpeted hallway to where Ffon lay face down on the floor, his nose bleeding profusely. She knelt down beside him, whispering in his ear.

"Master Ffon."

A low groan confirmed he was conscious. Mostly.

"I can understand your embarrassment over tonight's experience," she began. "That doesn't mean I have to remember it. In fact, I'm sure your standing among the slaves and with your father would be quite well preserved if we all agreed none of us were here tonight. I would, of course, be honoured to clean up any mess that might have resulted from the accident that must have occurred here. Do you understand, Master Ffon?"

Rather than his customary low growl, Ffon gave a barely perceptible nod. Satisfied she'd done all she could to prevent both her own and Aqura's imminent executions, Dar'vao stood and walked back to Aqura, who was watching her intently.

"I suppose," the human admitted sheepishly, "that will probably help."

-Time Skip-

As the grip on her wrist tightened painfully, Aqura admitted to herself that she could have thought this through better. Stealth and guile really weren't her strong suits, and theft? Former street urchin or not, she'd always been a bit terrible at it, usually having to rely on speed and a good sense of direction when looking for food.

The difference now was, you couldn't fight a Sith Lord if he managed to catch you.

"There's a certain level of respect I expect from my slaves, child." Lord Althe's voice was laced with quiet menace. Normally as cool and collected as his son was quick-tempered and violent, his demeanor now could mean unimaginable things for the young human. "Theft is something that can almost be expected, and we are not short of food in this household. But you dare to lie to my face, to tell a Sith Lord that which he has seen? Slave, after eight months in my employ, I would think you had learned your place."

Aqura was at a loss. Lying to a Sith was difficult enough, but there was really nothing she could do, especially if the master searched her.

Somebody slammed into her side, but she managed to roll on the ground and regain her feet immediately. Looking down to the ground, she saw a small girl – the Twi'lek girl she'd met on her first day here – lying on the ground.

"Master," cried the girl desperately, "are you alright? Did Aqura retrieve the bread in time?"

"What are you talking about, girl?" spat Lord Althe, confusion adding to his anger.

"Master, the poisoned bread. You can't have eaten it. You would never leave a fellow Sith's side for a slave's call, so we couldn't warn you properly. Aqura is faster than me, so we decided she should steal the bread, perhaps replace it if we were fast enough."

Dar'vao, Aqura now remembered her name, lifted a piece of bread she'd been cradling when she'd fallen.

"This will be safe to eat, my lord," she said.

Aqura couldn't help but stare at the 9-year-old girl in front of her. What kind of game was she playing? The food wasn't poisoned. Aqura had just made a stupid mistake, assuming their Master would be too busy with preparations to be near when she stole an extra helping of food. There was no way a Sith would fall for something like this, and what if he checked the bread for poison?

"You're saying Lord Fenteer arranged to have our meal poisoned?" Lord Althe's incredulity battled with a healthy Sith paranoia before he eventually came to a conclusion. "He waits for me to deal with my slave at this very moment," he hissed. "If you speak the truth, he may quickly realize what you've done. Find a second platter of food and add the bread you have stolen to it. We will go back, and you, Twi'lek, will serve him this bread. Should it kill him, I will have you both rewarded."

"Yes, master!" said Dar'vao quickly, before rushing off, both loaves of bread in hand.

Aqura actually did a double-take at that. She hadn't seen or felt the little girl take the bread from her. When had that happened?

"And you, human," continued Lord Althe, "will stay immediately outside the door to my dining hall. Should your friend have been lying to save your skin…"

Months' worth of Ffon's threats, relating what he would do once he finally grew into his powers, flashed through Aqura's head. Lord Althe had no need to complete the threat.

When the little Twi'lek returned, she carried a full platter of fruits, cheeses, and breads. She made sure to point out the poisoned piece to Lord Althe before they both entered the dining hall again.

Aqura waited for what felt like days outside the doors. The bread hadn't been poisoned, she was sure of it. All the little girl had done was to bring them a small reprieve. After Lord Fenteer left, they would both –

A clatter of silverware hitting the ground and soft thud of a body hitting the floor interrupted her thoughts. She couldn't help looking into the hall to see the dying Lord Fenteer frothing at the mouth and writhing on the ground in pain before giving a last gurgle and slumping, motionless. Lord Althe left his seat to walk up to the dead Sith's corpse, gazing dispassionately at another defeated enemy.

"I always suspected you envied my estate and slaves, Fenteer," Althe sneered, "now, I've truly proven the superiority of my subjects.

"Human, Twi'lek," he called, and the two ran up to him, "I believe compensation is required for your bravery, initiative, and loyalty. I shall see to it immediately that you each receive a room, and you will be paid for your services from now on, so that my slaves know how I value those who act, and act well."

"Thank you, master," said Dar'vao, bowing, and Aqura followed her lead not a second after.

"Now go, I will have others attend to this filth. You will be brought to new quarters after I have made the arrangements. For now, continue your duties as if nothing were amiss."

The day passed, and before it was over the two girls were led to their own rooms, with beds, blankets, a closet, and credits on a desk in the corner. It was beyond anything either had imagined since coming to serve the Sith Lord.

It was midnight when Aqura's door quietly opened and a small shape slipped up to her bed. The human was awake as soon as it had opened, despite the figure's obvious ability for stealth.

"Thank you for today, Dar," Aqura whispered, sitting up, "you saved my life twice. If Althe had found out I'd stolen the bread to eat or even if I'd gotten away and eaten it…" Aqura shuddered slightly at her brush with death.

The little twi'lek stood silently in the moonlight. Her blue skin faded easily into the darkness, and she seemed to shrink when Aqura looked directly at her.

Then Aqura asked, "how did you know the bread was poisoned?"

"It wasn't," Dar'vao said, watching the floor instead of Aqura. "Not when I took it from you."

"Then… you poisoned it?" Aqura stared at the younger slave in horror. It seemed underestimating the girl was easily a fatal mistake. "Where did you get poison like that? Why would you risk getting caught lying for me?"

This time, Dar'vao took a deep breath and looked directly at Aqura. Her grey-green eyes held strong as steel to Aqura's, and she said, "I had the power to make something right in the galaxy."

Her gaze faltered, and she continued, "and I owed you for… before."

Aqura smiled, placing a hand lightly on her friend's shoulder. "You can have it both ways, Dar. No one's saying you can't work to help your friends first. And you didn't owe me anything for dealing with Ffon. Even if it hadn't been a pleasure, it was the right thing to do. Something we should just expect of ourselves."

There was a moment of silence as they both thought. Aqura spoke first. "I don't approve of poison, though. There's something terrible about dying that way."

"It was the only way I had," Dar'vao protested quietly.

"I know," said Aqura thoughtfully, "and we should do something about that. How would you like to learn how to fight?

The 9-year-old thought back to what she had seen the older girl do to Ffon and nodded in the darkness.

"Then let's start now," Aqura declared, leaping out of bed.

-Time Skip-

Two years passed in much the same manner. Aqura taught Dar'vao how to fight in the quiet of the night, Dar'vao taught Aqura to think before she fought. They gave each other a family for those years, and they lived as happily as those without freedom could. Lord Althe accepted that the two were close and was wary, but not enough to limit their contact. Happier slaves worked better, and the two had worked together to save his life another two times over the years. Unlike the first, these were genuine threats to the Lord's life and the two children's way of life. As the years went by, Ffon found himself less and less able to bully the slaves in his household, with both Aqura and Dar'vao using their status and relative freedom to keep him away from the other slaves. Slowly, the other slaves warmed to them, after the chill that had initially followed the girls' preferential treatment. For a house with two Sith in it, it could almost have been called happy.

Then Ffon found out about their midnight training sessions and told his father.

The girls were brought before Lord Althe and his son in the main hall, a grand place with red carpeting, wooden walls, glass ceiling, and beautiful paintings everywhere. Dar'vao had an idea what they had been summoned for, but tried not to let her apprehension show. It was easier with Aqura around, as if she could borrow the older girl's courage.

"You two have been holding combat training sessions in your rooms." Lord Althe wasted no time on frivolities. "Would you mind telling me why you think you would need such a thing, and for exactly how long this has gone on?"

Dar'vao started to speak before Aqura could. The older girl tended to have a lot of trouble lying, no matter the effort Dar'vao had put into teaching her. "Master, Aqura has been teaching me self-defence since your duel with Lord Inzen. You'll recall that I was nearly killed during the duel when Lord Inzen began throwing pieces of the chamber at you." Truthfully, Dar'vao had never been in any danger. With the years of training from Aqura and her own speed, her reflexes were honed to the point she could have dodged any of the furniture haphazardly thrown by the Sith Lord. Not bad for an 11-year-old slave. "Since that day, Aqura has taken it upon herself to train me so that I could, at the very least, escape such a situation should it happen again. I apologize for my selfishness, but I accepted her help without a thought as to how you might react, and hope that you will forgive us both."

"It's not that simple, Dar'vao," said Lord Althe sadly, "I simply can't have slaves training in combat. Were it anyone less trusted, I'd have them put to death as a matter of course. I'm forced to make an example of you two."

"Master, no!" Dar'vao would have stopped Aqura if she could, but the elder blurted out her plea before she could do anything, "please, whatever you need to do, punish me alone. I can be your example. Just don't hurt Dar. I insisted she be trained, it's not her fault. Please, she's just a little girl. What harm could she ever do to you?"

"SILENCE! ...Stand up, Aqura," ordered Lord Althe, and Aqura did so. "Do you know what the problem is with training children, Aqura? They grow up. Do you know what the problem is with training slaves? Power. If you give a slave even a taste of power, the difference between that slave and a Sith becomes minute. The real difference has always been ambition, not the power itself. A slave has no power, and no sense of it. She craves none because she doesn't know what it is. But you've been hiding your power from me this whole time, haven't you? Using it to protect Dar'vao from Ffon, to protect all the slaves. You're the complete antithesis of Sith, Aqura. More power than you know what to do with, and no ambition to do anything but protect others with it. You will never be able to do the things that Ffon can, unless we can remove those limitations."

A sudden movement, the buzz of a lightsaber, all before Dar'vao could react. She knew Aqura could have, that she was fast enough and chose not to, that she held still because of her 'little sister'. She closed her eyes, knowing she wouldn't be able to block out the sound of her friend's body hitting the floor, that it would haunt her forever.

 _Drip._

…

 _Drip._

Dar'vao opened her eyes to see Aqura still standing, Lord Althe with his lightsaber drawn, Ffon still behind him, but with a look of outrage on his face.

 _Drip._

"You really do have some potential, then," Lord Althe spoke, sheathing his saber, "and you have earned yourself and your friend a respite. You will have to go see my physician about that cut. Tonight, you will meet me in my chamber. I will have to spend this afternoon properly arranging your future. Say your goodbyes. I will not allow you to see Dar'vao again."

 _Drip._

"As you wish, master," came the intonation from the woman standing in front of Dar'vao.

Lord Althe swept out of the room without another word. After a moment, sparing a glare of hatred for the two girls he hated more than anyone he ever would, Ffon followed after.

 _Drip._

Aqura turned around, and Dar'vao gasped. Blood flowed like tears down the right side of her face from the cut Lord Althe had made. The cut must have been so fast; it hadn't even cauterized the wound. It crossed over her eye, which was red with the blood that had flowed into it, but her eye was still there. If she had flinched even a centimeter…

 _Drip._

"I hope you learned enough, Dar," Aqura said with a smile, "if I'm not going to see you again, you'd better promise you'll be alright."

 _Drip._

"Please," begged Dar'vao, "let's just get you to the physician. He can get some kolto on that cut."

"I don't want to waste the time," said Aqura calmly, "when I could be with you. Now, let's get a cloth or something. When my blood dries, it's not going to match the carpet anymore."

 _Drip._

The rest of the day passed far too quickly. Aqura tried to make the best of it, Dar'vao tried her best to calm down for her friend, but in the end, they'd be parted by the end of the day, and it was all either could do not to cry.

That evening, the other slaves made Dar'vao and Aqura their favourite foods; it was a meal fit for the Emperor. The cost would come out of everyone's rations, but they didn't care. If Aqura was leaving, whatever was happening to her, everybody was taking their chance to say goodbye. She'd stuck by them through years now, keeping everyone safe and their lives calm. Now that she was leaving, the youngest seemed lost and disbelieving, the eldest, mournful.

Dar'vao stayed up all night crying for the loss of her sister.

-Time Skip-

It was only a few months before Dar'vao came for Aqura, as they both knew she would. Aqura hadn't known what to expect from Lord Althe, but it certainly wasn't that he planned on training her to be his personal bodyguard. She'd learned more in this month as she and Dar'vao had discovered together over the last two years. She was impressed in spite of herself, but she couldn't bring herself to be happy without the little Twi'lek girl who'd become her family.

When Dar'vao did come, it was a relief. Her plan, however, was unexpected.

"How did you get those?!"

"Oh, I have my ways," said the 11-year-old Twi'lek, twirling a stealth field generator belt on one finger, then tossing it to her sister. "Now put it on and let's get out of here. We're escaping. I've planned it out. There's a freighter we can stow away on coming to the nearest port just before dawn. If we move at my jogging speed, we'll be able to slip past a hole in the guard's patrol, wait about two hours, and sneak in or bribe one of the porters to get us onto the ship. It'll take us to neutral space. From there, we'll be able decide where to go."

"You're eleven," muttered Aqura, "how are you this much smarter than I am?"

"Says the girl who's almost mastered Teräs Käsi in the time we've been apart."

"You knowing about that just proves my point, Dar," Aqura replied fondly.

Both girls grinned at each other for a moment before Dar'vao slipped on her belt, prompting Aqura to put on her own. They quickly slipped through the door of the chamber and made their way up several flights of stairs to the more commonly tread paths of the estate. It seemed so easy; Aqura wondered why they hadn't done it years ago.

"I know you're there, slave," came an all-too-familiar voice, "I can sense you."

The girls turned to see a dark red face leering right at them. Ffon. The Sith was never going to let them go quietly. How did he always manage to cause them so much trouble? Only one thing for it, really. Aqura threw caution to the wind in that moment.

"Sense this!" Aqura yelled, and charged Ffon, breaking her stealth.

Her speed must have surprised him, because his eyes only widened as she ran at him, landed a palm strike to his jaw, then brought the sides of her open hands together on the sides of his neck. The move stunned him before pinching nerves connecting his brain to the rest of his body. Should keep him down for long enough to get out of there. As bad as he was, he wasn't quite evil, and she couldn't justify killing him.

"Let's go, before anyone notices," Aqura hissed before reactivating her stealth belt and leaving Ffon behind.

As soon as they were side-by-side again, Dar'vao whispered, "what was that?"

"Charging Wampa," Aqura replied, winking despite the stealth field around her.

"I like it."

Aqura just grunted and urged Dar'vao to quicken her pace.

It took them three hours to make it to the port and slip past the guards, but it was blissfully uneventful for the entire time. In retrospect, it was lucky there was a port so close to the Althe Estate.

"I'm not sure about this anymore," Dar'vao admitted after the first hour of waiting inside the port, "I mean, Ffon's woken up by now, and the first place they'll check is the closest port."

"We'll deal with that when it comes, Dar," Aqura said, "sometimes your planning just ends up as worrying. Let's just wait for this to pan out, and, well, hope."

"Yeah…" the little Twi'lek whispered. "Aqura?"

"Yeah?"

"Could you hold me?"

"Sure."

The freighter landed about an hour later, just like Dar'vao expected. They were creeping up to the ship when they heard the sound of speeders in the distance.

"Oh please, oh please…" Aqura whispered.

"Hey! What are you doing here? You're not supposed to be here!"

The girls froze, afraid they'd been spotted. Instead, a dockhand ran right past them, and they breathed sighs of relief.

"We're here to inspect your ship for stowaways," came the voice of Ffon. "We're missing a couple of slaves from the local estate. You will allow us to search the area for them without interference."

"We don't deal in slaves, boy," came a voice from the ramp, "this is just a blue milk run for us, dropping off supplies for some local friends."

"Then get out of my way," said Ffon, remarkably calm, "if you'll just let me – "

Ffon was interrupted by the dockhands joining the guards in pointing guns at him, and Aqura gave silent thanks for the paranoia of smugglers.

Ffon was suddenly much more respectful.

"The escapees are using stealth field generators. They could be anywhere," Ffon explained slowly, reaching for a small, spherical device on his belt. "This is an EMP generator. Small, weak, probably won't hurt anything except the belts they're wearing."

"Oh no – "

Aqura was cut off by the fizzing of their belts as the EMP activated and the two girls were left standing for all to see.

"There they are!" Ffon's scream tore into their souls as he activated a lightsaber he could only have stolen from his father.

"Sith! The hut'uun's a Sith! Take off now!" The man standing on the ramp was as loud as the blaster fire that ensued, and the ship immediately started to take off. Aqura knew even she wasn't fast enough to get onto the ship in time. There was no way. She and Dar'vao were going to –

"NO!"

An eleven-year-old shouldn't be able to scream that loudly, but Aqura wasn't even able to turn and marvel at her sister one last time before she was swept away by what felt like a wave. The blast tossed her into the air and she flew across the port and landed on the ramp of the freighter. Armoured hands pulled at her as the ramp closed, and the last thing she saw was another thing no little girl should have to: lightning, purple and terrifying, was hitting her friend. Dar'vao had her hands up, trying to ward off the Sith power, and she was screaming. The sound mixed with Aqura's own cries of terror, then was cut off as the hatch sealed.

Slipping from the grasping hands, she dove for the ramp's control panel, determined to get back to Dar'vao. Her friend was going to die if she didn't go back. She was going to die!

A kick to her side threw her away from the ramp, but she rolled to her feet again. There was only one man between her and her friend. She'd kill him if she had to. She'd kill him to save her sister, her little Dar. She charged the armoured figure, sure that if she could just remove his helmet, he'd have a weak spot. She'd –

The blow came from a gauntlet fist behind her, and she stumbled forward into the arms of the man who'd made her kill her friend, her vision blurring.

"Dar…" she trailed off into unconsciousness.

"She going to be alright?" asked the Mandalorian who had knocked out the stowaway.

"I doubt it," replied the one holding her, "I think her friend died back there. Not sure she'll ever forgive us for that, but she's mandokarla, ner vod. She'll recover. Did you see that Teräs Käsi she tried to pull? How many kids see a fully armoured Mando and don't even flinch?"

"Yeah. Mandokarla. Can't believe she was a slave," said the second Mandalorian contemplatively, "not with that mettle."

The man who'd caught her looked down at the child cradled in his arms. She was pale, with hair just on the grey side of black. A fresh scar crossed her right eye. Her angular features made her look older than she must have been. As he watched, a tear followed the trail of the scar down her face.


End file.
